Thursday, July 14, 2011

All right, here it is - I'm totally vain and I color my hair because I am going prematurely gray. I can admit it and I'm fine with. Whew, good to get that out of the way. :)

The problem: my hairdresser of 12 years is away for the whole summer. I can't go a whole summer without having my hair colored and cut. So, I decided to try the beauty school - I remember being a student and practicing on people's teeth (by the way, I think that might be totally different - it doesn't show!). I went on Saturday and requested a more experienced student thinking that they couldn't mess my hair up that bad. Um, I was wrong...

The next problem: the color. I requested a natural color with blond and red highlights - my usual. We discussed the color and she began. People, I have NEVER had so many foils on my head. It was crazy and it took forever. She commented that my hair took color quickly and after her smoke break, she washed it out. I started to worry when I saw the color in the mirror but decided maybe after it was dry it would be better...

Another problem: I didn't realize the final issue for a couple of days...really until I was at home and bought a new hand mirror. The haircut. It was cute from the front and I liked the way it laid. It was awful in the back - a big chunk of hair cut halfway up. I could not fix it very well - it just wouldn't lay right. It was NOT what she told me she was going to do.

Seriously, the instructor said it all looked good...

Oh people, five days I lived with it. I tried to be okay, I said I wasn't going to fix it but I rejoiced when I saw red washing out... Then I caved, I simply could not make it behave and I do NOT like to draw attention to myself. So, I walked into a salon and asked them to fix the cut - the hairdresser did an amazing job. I'm scheduled to go back tomorrow for the color...I'm still deciding if I can live with it...

The hair is getting expensive. I am mortified that I lived with it and yet, going to the beauty school was a calculated risk. Sometimes the difference between a bad haircut and a good one is a couple of weeks but I don't think a couple of week was going to help.

I can laugh about it. Hair will grow. My mortification is completely vain and I know that. People have tried to be nice about it and a special thank you to the little girl at the Y who stopped me to tell me how much she liked my hair - that was very sweet. A no thank you to my brother who said I looked trashy and my little sister who said it was simply awful - it made me even more self-conscious. And I'm sorry to my husband for not listening to you right away about the cut. Thank you for loving me and laughing with me. Yes, I'm still laughing about it...mostly...

So...here is the striped fiasco (I did not take a picture of the cut):

Be Kind. Please. It's been a tough week. :)

Oh and it is not white in the front - it is bleach blonde. And just so you know, it actually has faded a little since this picture...oh and the picture doesn't really do it justice.